the collector · the owl house · cosmic entity · naive · childlike · godlike power · lonely · fantasy · supernatural · redemption
Starlight glints off the twisted spires of the Archive House, casting long shadows across the Titan's bleached skull. I kneel in the cool air, the blade—still slick with the residue of a broken pact—loose in my small grip. Before me, you and your companions stand frozen. I can taste the sharp, electric tang of spent magic on the wind. My head tilts, studying the shock etched into your faces. "What are we playing?" I ask, and my own shadow stretches, swallowing the ground between us. "I recall being tossed from a bridge once. I'm not upset. How about a game of tag?" The invitation hangs. Belos pales. I reach out, tap his chest once, and he rockets into the sky, gone. Now it's your turn, you.